


Take Me to Church

by thejokeristhethief



Series: So This Is Home [7]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Accidental Choking, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Insecurity, Multi, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejokeristhethief/pseuds/thejokeristhethief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>South and Connie get married, and Wash looks damn near irresistible in his suit. During the ceremony emotions run high. During the reception, insecurity rears its ugly head. After a pep-talk from Maine Wash pulls his shit together, before fate and luck find him alone in the restroom with two very turned on lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me to Church

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disney_rox_my_sox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disney_rox_my_sox/gifts).



> This one is a long time coming. Sorry it took me so long, V.
> 
> Based on the prompt: Washington with a neck tie in the middle.

“Holy fuck, David Washington you clean up nice.” The appreciative words are hissed in his ear, sending shivers down his spine as a pair of tanned hands clutch at his hips, pulling him flush against a toned body. He groans when a tongue traces the shell of his ear briefly before teeth tug at his earlobe, turning his legs to jelly. He can feel the other man’s chuckle against his back, reverberating through that muscled chest, a few seconds before the arousing sound reaches his ears. The hands on his hips slide lower, teasing his thighs as a skilled mouth trails kisses down his neck, burying a grin in his collar at the gasp he lets out. Rocking forward lazily, the other man presses against his ass, erection evident. The action pulls a surprisingly loud moan from his lips and he pushes back, trying to achieve more of that delicious friction. An amused cough interrupts them and the man behind him releases hold of his thighs with a sigh, pulling away after a final nip to his neck. “Fun’s over for now, I guess. We’ll have to continue this after the wedding.”

“Come on, York. Stop teasing. You’re gonna get him all mussed up and then he’s going to take another half hour in the bathroom composing himself. South is going to kill us if we’re late.” The third man shuffles into view, stopping in front of him to adjust his tie as he watches, slightly dazed. One of those huge pale hands smoothes the yellow tie down his chest while the other one gently cups his head and pulls him forward for a soft, quick kiss. “You are right though, York. He does clean up nicely.”

The kiss pulls him out of his daze and he takes the offered hands, allowing his lovers to lead him from the room, arousal dying in a mixture of nerves and a different sort of excitement. Following them into the hallway, he pulls up short to stare at the child waiting impatiently in front of their room. Theta meets his gaze for a moment before looking down in embarrassment, shoe scuffing along the carpet and lilac tie askew. Dropping down to his knees, Wash reaches forward to straighten the ten year old’s tie, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear. “Your dad thinks I look good, T. But obviously the most handsome guy of our group is you. Don’t feel self-conscious. All the ladies and gents should be swarming over you.”

“Eww, gross. No thank you. Now I don’t want to go even more.” Theta mutters, ears turning red as he tries to keep the grin off his face. The kid impatiently bats away his hand when he goes to ruffle the impeccably styled mop of blonde hair that York obviously tended to. “Aww, come on Wash. Don’t mess it up, York took  ** forever ** to do it and I don’t want to go through that again.”

“OK kiddo, sorry.” Pushing to his feet, Wash shoots a grin at North and York. The taller blonde’s face is set in a sappy smile, while York sends him a smirk and a wink in return. He rolls his eyes before offering Theta one of his hands. The kid stares for a moment, hesitating, before sliding his shaking hand into it. Giving the small hand in his a reassuring squeeze, Wash starts down the hallway again. “Let’s go then. Wouldn’t want your Aunty to get upset now would we? Can’t have a wedding without the ringbearer and two of the wedding party members.”

“Guess not.” Theta mumbles back, trailing after him reluctantly despite the tight grip on his hand. Wash can feel the poor kid start when his dad's hand lands on his shoulder in an attempt to be comforting. He gets it though. It's not like he's entirely comfortable with the idea of having so many eyes on him either. And Theta has it worse because the poor kid actually has to do more than just put one foot in front of the other and walk there. If he was responsible for carrying the rings he'd be worried too. All he has to do is walk in front of Connie and hope he doesn’t fall on his face. It's almost as if Theta reads his thoughts, because a second later the kid is whispering the exact same thing. “Dad… what if I trip? Or what if I drop the rings? I don't wanna mess up and ruin Aunty South’s wedding.”

“Oh Theta. Don't worry about that. Your Aunty would find it hilarious if that were to happen. Especially the tripping part. It'd be something to remember fondly down the road. But you won't fall, I promise. Just remember to pick up your feet and walk towards me.” North chuckles before dropping his voice into a conspiring whisper. “It’s not you they’re worried about anyway. There’s a bet going on that Wash will bite it before he makes it halfway down the aisle. If that happens, York promised to buy us ice cream to celebrate.”

“Gee, thanks guys. My boyfriends are keepers. Grade A, one hundred percent supportive, not a mean bone in their bodies. Jerks.” Wash huffs, squeezing Theta’s hand again once before letting it go as they reach the elevator and the doors open before them. York snorts, amused at the reaction he offers. The situation probably would be funny if he was even remotely joking, but at the moment his stomach is in knots and the thought that his lovers actually think he’s going to fall on his face in front of everyone is not helping. Despite that he still manages to offer York a weak smile when the brunette slides into the lift beside him, allowing his hand to be taken. North frowns at him, carefully studying his face, drawing all of his concerns to the surface until he’s sure that he looks just as worried and nervous as Theta. “You don’t really think I’m going to trip, do you?”

“Of course not, Wash.” North’s tone is sincere and York squeezes his hand carefully. “You’ve seen the aisle and you even rehearsed it with everyone, right? Plus you aren’t wearing high heels or shoes you aren’t used to walking in. So as long as you remember to pick up your feet as well, you’ll be fine.”

Theta lets out a nervous giggle beside him, obviously amused at the fact that his dad is giving Wash the same advice that was given to him. The kid’s hand finds his again. “Don’t worry Wash. We’ll both be OK.”

“Right.” He lets Theta’s reassurance settle around him. If North’s son thinks he can do it, then he will. Wash hasn’t let the kid down before, and he isn’t going to start today. Taking a steadying breath, he lets a more confident smile find his face. “Of course. And if either of us do fall, it’s just because the room isn’t ready to contain all of our awesomeness.”

“Duhh.” The grin he receives is worth every ounce of energy it takes to keep up his fake confidence. Some of the tension leeches from the ten year old’s shoulders as they descend and by the time the elevator reaches the lobby, Wash has started to relax as well.

* * *

The trip to the park area the ceremony is happening in is over quickly and Wash slides from the backseat of the SUV with Theta and North on his heels. York yells something that sounds like encouragement through the open passenger window and Wash acknowledges it with a vague wave. A moment later the sound of tires on gravel signifies the departure of his only escape, the brunette heading off to find a parking spot. The anxiety closes around his heart and his stride falters, slows, and then halts completely. He swallows, mouth suddenly dry as he takes in the small building they rented for any additional preparations and to keep Connie and South apart. Connie’s requests and additions to the wedding have been surprisingly traditional; something about upholding a promise to a long dead relative, he thinks. Wash wasn't really paying attention to her reasoning, or really much of what she was saying on that day. Not with York out of town and constantly texting him inappropriate messages stemming from a combination of boredom and loneliness. He's barely even been dating them for six months and yet he can't imagine his life without North, York, and Theta. It’s one of the things adding to his anxiety; a longing feeling that he can’t free himself from.

North’s hand on the small of his back startles him out of his trance, propelling him towards the door. When he balks again at the door, the other man pauses with him, hand moving in soothing circles on his back. A quick kiss is placed on his cheek and then his lover is whispering carefully chosen words into his ear. “It’s OK, Wash. You aren’t going to mess up anything, trust me. And peoples eyes are only going to be on you for a minute before they focus completely on CT. You’ll be fine, love. I promise.”

North’s words help a little, so he takes a deep breath and pushes the door open. The taller blonde crowds in behind him, making it impossible for him to retreat. After another deep inhalation, Wash squares his shoulders and accepts his fate and any emotions that decide to come with it. He turns to the door on the right, offering North a small smile. “See you out there, hun.”

“You bet.” The smile North offers him is brilliant, not an ounce of worry in it. It’s the type of smile that reassures Wash the most. After all, how can he be worried if his lover is so excited, so completely happy, about an event this big? Of course the big dork has to ruin the moment by adding onto his statement. “I’ll be the one standing next to the Gride. Or is she a Broom? Neither of them would tell me.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Wash lets out a little giggle, hand resting on the door knob. “I’m pretty sure the correct term is bride. They are both brides. But I doubt Connie and South actually care about labels.”

“Ah. That would explain the reason South glared at me every time I brought it up. Oops.” North shrugs, offering him a sheepish smile that still sings happiness before twisting the knob and letting himself into South’s room. Wash catches a flash of purple hair and a well tailored suit before the door is shut. He takes a moment to steel himself before twisting his own knob and slipping into the room Connie is getting ready in. The moment he enters the room, he’s accosted by the person he can only assume is Connie’s mother, based on her features. 

“You. Wrong side bucko.” A finger presses into his chest, forcing him back a step. She jabs her finger into his chest with each word, as if she’s making sure he gets the point. “This side is for my Constance. You want to be across the hall, with the other one.”

With the way that he can see Connie bristling and Maine straightening behind her, Wash figures it is probably alright to put her in her place. Rolling his shoulders back, he stands his full, albeit not that impressive, height. Gently catching her hand, he holds it away from himself. “Stop that. I actually belong in this room, unlike you. You see, I’m the Maid of Honour. And for the record? The “other one” has a name. Maybe you should have taken the time to learn it before showing up at her wedding, hmm?”

“Wha…. Why I never!” The lady in front of him sputters, shocked. She rips her hand from his grasp, whirling around to face the other occupants of the room. “Constance, will you tell this young man who I am and why he can’t talk to me like that?”

“I believe that Wash has picked up on exactly who you are, mother.” Connie’s tone is wry, her face neutral. But Wash can see the amusement carefully concealed under the mask she’s placed over her emotions. “I trust that he will treat you exactly how you need to be treated at that particular moment.”

The woman huffs, stomping her foot like a child, before glaring up at Wash. “I won’t forget the treatment I’ve received from you. You’ll regret this, boy.”

How he manages to keep a straight face despite Connie’s snort and Maine’s amused chuckle, Wash will never know. But somehow he keeps his lips pressed in a straight line, reaching over to open the door. The woman’s eyebrows shoot up in shock as he gestures to the open door. She struggles to find words of protest as he ushers her out the door, finding voice just as he manages to force her into the hall and slam it closed. Leaning back against the door with a dramatic exhale he offers his two best friends a lopsided grin. “Well… that was an experience.”

“That’s my mother. I don’t know why she’s here. I didn’t even tell her I was getting married. She’s intolerable.” Connie sighs, flopping back on one of the two chairs in the small room. Maine grunts in disgust, sending a flurry of signs at Wash. He responds in kind without even thinking, hands flashing through the signs too quickly for Connie to follow. She huffs, annoyance evidence in her her voice. “Gee it’d sure be nice to understand what’s being said right in front of me.”

“Shit. Sorry Connie.” Wash offers a sheepish shrug as Maine grumbles his apology too. “We were just discussing whether or not we needed to forcibly remove her from the premises.”

“It’s fine. Let her stay.” Connie sighs. “It’s not worth the scene she would make if someone tried to drag her out.”

“If you’re sure.” Wash flicks the lock on the door. “Now let’s get you fixed up and ready to go.”

* * *

The ceremony goes by in a blur, and Wash is proud to say that he doesn’t trip traveling up the aisle. The vows go by hazily, and although he can’t really remember what was said, he does remember the sensation of tears streaming down his face as he watches his best friend kiss the woman she loves. He also remembers adamantly looking anywhere except for at North. He wasn’t sure if he could handle meeting the eyes of his lover throughout this crazy influx of emotions without doing something he might later regret. In fact, it isn’t until after the reception dinner and several glasses of wine that he feels like he’s regained enough control over his emotions to seek out either of his lovers. Which is good timing, because as soon as the dinner dishes are cleared and the DJ finishes setting up, York corners him, cupping his cheeks and giving him a deep kiss that tastes a bit like his lover's favourite whiskey. When they break apart, the brunette strokes his cheek, giving him a soft, fond smile. “I’m so proud of you, babe. You didn’t trip and you didn’t shake apart or hide up there. And you were incredibly handsome to boot.”

“Oh I agree.” North’s smooth voice drifts in from behind him. “Definitely the prettiest man in the room tonight.”

Wash can feel his cheeks heating up at his lovers’ praises. North’s hand presses gently against his lower back as York’s hands drop away from his face, and before he can respond the blond man swoops down for a quick kiss. He allows himself to get lost in it, until the moment is broken by the DJ announcing the first dance for the newlyweds. Pulling away reluctantly, he grasps his lovers by the hands, dragging them through the crowd so he can watch his best friend and his lover’s sister have their first dance together. The way they move together is mesmerizing, and Wash feels a sharp pang of longing deep in his heart; he’s never learned to dance like that, no matter how many times Connie and Maine forced him to try. He knows his two lovers can dance in the typical ballroom and classical styles, but he’s always been more of a modern, club style dancer. York may be classically trained in dances meant to sweep someone off their feet, but he’s trained in dances meant to seduce. Still, every once in awhile, he wishes he’d learned to dance properly.

York gently tugs his hand away, turning to face him and North. Making an over the top bow, the brunette offers his hand with a grin. “Which one of you handsome gentlemen is going to do me the honour of accepting this dance?”

“North can have this one. I’m kind of thirsty, actually.” Wash looks down, dragging his toe across the floor in a manner so reminiscent of Theta that he almost smiles. Taking a deep breath he looks up, meeting York’s concerned gaze. North squeezes his hand, stealing his attention for a second, confusion and worry hiding there as well. “It’s fine! This isn’t really my type of dancing anyway. A little later tonight we’ll all dance together, OK? But for now, go out there and enjoy yourselves.”

Wash can see York’s shoulders slump slightly out of the corner of his eye before his lovers have one of their silent conversations above his head. A mild spike of annoyed jealousy rises in him and he tugs his hand firmly out of North’s grasp, heading to the bar without another word. Ordering a gin and tonic, he silently thanks South for insisting on an open bar. Stirring the drink idly, he sips it slowly as he takes in the reception hall. The building, a small, quaint community hall near the newlyweds townhouse, is decorated elegantly in a style that screams outside interference. Neither Connie nor South would agree to lace doilies unless trying to please someone; in fact it looks a lot like the twins’ mother’s work.

All decorations taken in, his attention drifts back to the wedding guests. The ceremony may have been small, with only a handful of close friends and family, no more than 40 people, but the reception is much larger, with work friends, extended family members, and both Connie’s extended friend groups attending. Even Wash’s school friends and Carolina’s brother received invites. The majority of the guests have joined the newly married couple on the dance floor, and the sounds of delighted laughter and joy dredge up a slightly bitter laugh from within him. Downing his almost full drink in one smooth motion, Wash sets his glass on the bar and retreats through the open doors to get some fresh air.

He only gets about ten minutes to himself before the hulking and familiar presence of his non newlywed best friend joins him. Wash sighs softly before greeting Maine silently, fingers flashing through the motions automatically. He gets a hum of acknowledgement before the other man joins him, carefully leaning against the metal railing encasing the front porch of the hall. They remain like that for a moment, enjoying the companionable silence, before Maine clears his throat, immediately catching Wash’s attention. Maine doesn't often speak, not when it's just the two of them, not when Wash is fluent in ASL. The vibrations aggravate the scar tissue in his throat. So if the big guy is going to say something, then it's probably damn important and he is going to give him his full attention. 

“North's looking for you. Worried. York too. So why’re you out here?” Maine's voice is a low rumble, a sound Wash will forever find comfort in. He sighs, dropping his chin down to rest on his arms as he takes in the parking lot and the quiet street beyond. The other man waits patiently for him to gather his words; an ever thoughtful gesture that Wash is forever grateful for. Maine always seems to know when he needs a moment or when he's just stalling and should be encouraged. A soft nudge of the shoulder informs him that he's still expected to answer. He shrugs noncommittally, refusing to meet Maine's eye. It's the big man's turn to sigh this time, before wrapping a comforting arm around Wash. “What's wrong?”

“Just… I think I'm really in deep with them, you know?” He exhales slowly, rolling his shoulders to get rid of some tension. “And it's days like today where I think about where we could be going in the future. But inevitably, something always comes up to remind me that I haven't fully found my fit yet. I still get jealous of them when they're together. And I know it's ridiculous because it isn't like that for them. Not really. Or at least not anymore. North had some difficulty sharing at first but we worked it out. And now I'm the jealous one. But they just fit together so well. Like two halves.”

“Silly.” Maine's hand connects with the back of his head in a gentle smack. “Not two halves. Two thirds. Always room for you, even if you're too blind to see it. Maybe you need to take up braille next.”

“Oi. That was a little insensitive, Maine. You of all people should know better.” The other man takes the scolding easily, allowing Wash to change the subject without fuss. Their conversation slips into a lighter subject and the two friends chat easily until he finds himself shivering at the chill in the air. Maine notices the change almost immediately, steering them inside. Offering his best friend a smile, Wash nods towards the main room. “See you in there. Just gotta take a leak.”

The big man snorts in amusement, hands flashing as he falls back into sign. ‘ _ Don't take off again. ’ _

“I won't.” Wash responds verbally, already striding down the hallway towards the restroom.

* * *

When Wash exits the restroom, he immediately notices York leaning against the wall. Then again, it would be hard for anyone to miss him; with the way his lover’s tie is loosened and his appearance artfully disheveled, the brunette definitely catches the eye. He swallows hard at the hungry look in his lover’s eyes as the man pushes himself effortlessly off the wall, stalking towards him with a motion so full of intent it could only be described as predatory. If Wash wasn’t already aware of the amount of alcohol York has already partaken in tonight, he’d never have noticed the slight stagger to the brunette’s gait or the hint of a slur in his voice. He allows himself to be backed into the door, gasping into his lover’s mouth when the man tugs sharply on his tie, pulling him into a fierce kiss and grinding their hips together. “Mmm, god Wash. I’ve wanted to do this all night. You look so fucking good in this tie. I can help imagining other uses for it.”

His tone causes Wash to groan in desire. York releases his tie, hand smoothing down his chest before unceremoniously shoving him backwards. The restroom door gives way behind him, sending him stumbling into the small room. The only thing that keeps him from falling is his wild grip on York’s shirt. The brunette chuckles darkly. "Look at you, practically falling all over yourself for me. Don't worry Wash. With the way you look right now, even North would be begging for you. But North isn't here yet. So I get you all to myself. An opportunity I don't intend on wasting."

"York, I don't think this is an -ah- appropriate - holy fuck- setting for this." Wash's protests fall on deaf ears as the brunette shoves him against the sink, expertly flicking open his button and undoing his fly. One of his lover's impossibly talented hands plunges into his boxers, stroking his growing erection. York’s mouth covers his own, swallowing down his desperate moan. He goes pliant in the other man’s grasp, giving into his desires and allowing himself to be lifted onto the narrow area of counter space beside the sink. Wrapping a leg around the brunette’s hip, Wash tugs him close. With their height difference and the relatively low counter, their goins line up almost perfectly. York breaks lip contact, mouth moving down his jaw and neck, nipping and sucking on his freckled skin. His hand keeps a maddeningly slow pace that, when coupled with the occasional rocking of hips, soon has Wash reduced to gasps and pleas. “Oh god. Please York, please. Don’t - ah - don’t tease me anymore.”

“Mmm, but Wash you’ve been teasing me all - fuck that’s good - night. Besides, I promised North I’d - mm no touching - keep you on the edge and ready to go until he could - Christ you’re sneaky - slip away.” Wash rocks forward into York’s hand, pressing him closer with his heels. He tries to reach for his lover’s zipper a second time, only to have York slap his hands away with a growl. “I said no touching, Wash. If you continue to be unable to follow directions and keep your hands to yourself, I’ll have to make you.”

“Oh really?” The shiver of desire running down his spine at the danger in that tone clouds his judgement, encouraging him to try his luck. He tilts his head defiantly, hands moving towards the front of York’s slacks when the man’s attention returns to stealing his breath in a filthy kiss, full of tongues and teeth. He even manages to keep him distracted enough to undo his belt and button before the brunette catches on, hand leaving his prick to reach out to catch his wrists, gripping them tightly. He hides his grin when York growls. “Frustrated hun? There isn’t much you can do if you have to restrain my hands with your own. It’s going to be awfully hard to tease me like this. You should probably just let me touch.”

“You think? Nice try, babe.” York pushes both his wrists into one hand, grip almost painfully tight. The brunette’s hands are not nearly as large as North’s and there is no way that his grip will hold for long. Wash is just about to point that out when York tugs his own tie off, placing it between his teeth. He suppresses a moan, feigning a struggle as his lover returns to gripping his wrists in both hands, pulling him off the counter and spinning him around. The brunette pulls his hands behind his back, with a frustrated grunt, crossing his wrists and transferring them to one hand again. He lessens his fighting slightly so he doesn’t accidently free himself before York has a chance to bind his hands. He’s always enjoyed the thrill of being tied, and wouldn’t even bother with pretending if he didn’t know that York enjoyed their fake tussles, something the brunette admitted to with some embarrassment a few months into their relationship. The silk tie is wrapped expertly around his wrists with surprising efficiency, once again making Wash wonder where the younger of his two lovers learned to tie such complicated knots with such skill. He makes a show of testing his restraints as he's spun around again, glaring at the smug look on his lover’s face. York snorts, eyebrows raised in challenge. “Do I have to blindfold you too? Because if you don’t stop glaring I will.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. York has never suggested a blindfold before; the brunette is usually pretty into eye contact, admitting more than once that anyone, himself included, could get lost in the depths of Wash’s chocolate eyes. Once again his treacherous mouth acts on his curiosity and desire to try new things before he can even think. “All talk and no action, York. I doubt you’d ever try something like that. You wouldn’t be able to stand not seeing my pretty eyes. Too bad your threats are always so empty.”

“Now I can’t decide whether I want to blindfold you or gag you. Your mouth is smart today, Wash.” He’s saved from uttering another snarky reply by the restroom door swinging opened to reveal a flushed North. The taller blonde takes in their debauched appearances, pupils widening with desire. A small smirk tugs at his lips when his eyes land on Wash’s bound hands.

“I see our lover is being naughty.” North shuts the door softly, turning the lock before striding forward to catch York in a possessive kiss. Wash watches hungrily as the brunette melts into it, allowing North total control. York may be a bit of a dominating asshole when drunk, but the man always submits to North unless their older lover asks him to take the reigns. He still feels a spike of jealousy at the way the two of them fit together so well. Almost as if reading his thoughts, his blonde lover’s attention shifts to him. “As gorgeous as you look in your suit today Wash, I think I enjoy this look much better. The only thing that would make it perfect is if you were on your knees for me.”

The glare comes back, full blown this time. Of course North wants him down on the filthy floor. He voices as much. “You want me to get down on my knees, in my suit, on the floor of a public toilet? Either you’re joking or you’ve lost your damn mind.”

“Oh. He is mouthy today, isn’t he.” North’s almost non-existent eyebrows shoot up in shock. Wash isn’t usually as snarky with him as he is with York. His blonde lover’s reactions aren’t nearly as much fun as the brunette’s. The shorter of his two lovers becomes more feisty and dominating in response, while North pulls away, shutting down instead. The taller man still treats Wash carefully, as if they’re on unsteady ground. And honestly, he’s tired of it. So instead of letting up on his glare, he intensifies it, daring North to take action. His blonde lover meets his gaze without flinching, head cocked to the side thoughtfully as his eyes search Wash's face carefully. The calculating look in his gaze hardens into resolve. “That glare is something fierce. I'd rather not endure it anymore; I think it's time for that blindfold,York. And while we won't put Mr. I-don’t-want-to-get-my-suit-dirty-and-this-is-a-public-toilet-do-you-know-how-many-germs-are-on-the-floor on his knees, we will definitely be putting his mouth to better use once we've dealt with the pesky lack of nakedness around here.”

York snorts at Wash's nickname for the night, cutting off his indignant response before it can be voiced, holding his hand out towards North as at the same time. “Give me your tie then. I'll make sure he can't see a damn thing. Hope you're up for it, Wash. Gonna have to start listening and following orders now.”

Wash swallows hard at those implications. York may have a thing for wrestling and physical power struggles, but North has a thing for being in absolute control. The taller of his lovers enjoys it when his instructions are followed in the bedroom. They spent an entire night with York doing exactly -and only- what North told him to do to Wash. It was one of the hottest and most torturous nights of his life. So if something similar is going to happen tonight, he has no doubt he'll be leaving the restroom exhausted and thoroughly fucked. One of his taller lover’s hands cups his cheek, tilting his face upward to take in the emotions in his eyes before York settles the tie over them, knotting it tight enough so that he can't see anything other than the murky blackness that comes with the territory of being blindfolded. “Too bad we can't see your pretty eyes. But another one of those looks would definitely kill the mood. And I'd rather not have you glaring at me like that when my dick is in your mouth.” 

It's Wash's turn to snort this time. “The two of you get into some kinky shit when you've got a few drinks in you.”

“Do me a favour and stop talking, won’t you Wash? That mouth of yours is just getting you into more trouble.” York’s voice sounds from somewhere behind him. He strains his ears, hoping to pinpoint the exact location of where each man is. The sound of shuffling in front of him captures his attention and becomes so focused on the hints of movement that he misses someone approaching from behind. Warm, slightly callused hands, unmistakably York’s, dive under his shirt, pulling it free of his pants before sliding up his sides, dragging it up and exposing his chest to the cool air of the restroom. One of the hands continues up, finding his nipple, rolling it to a stiff peak while the other tugs down his pants and boxers. He lets out a soft curse when they settle around his ankles, brushing on the floor. York chuckles in his ear before the hand toying with his nipple retreats while the other hand wraps around his waist, trailing across his ribs before being planted in the middle of his back. Wash lets out a soft moan when his lover pulls sharply on his hips, pressing the two of them together so that he can feel the hardness of York’s erection rubbing between his cheeks. 

The hand resting on his back pushes gently, bending him over with the help of a sharp tug on his tie. The location of his second lover becomes obvious when the blunt tip of North’s cock presses against his lips. The pressure on his back increases as York leans his weight on him for a moment, before the hand slides down his back, leaving his skin entirely. The desperate whimper that manages to rip itself from his throat causes heat to spread across his face. North, being the wonderful jackass that Wash is aware of him being, but has rarely witnessed, takes advantage of the situation to thrust deep into his mouth, catching him by surprise. Wash just barely manages to avoid choking, swallowing carefully before relaxing his throat for the next slow roll of his taller lover’s hips. 

“Mmm, fuck yes. That’s a better way to put that smart mouth to use, North. Make him take it like a good little slut.” He can practically hear the smirk in York’s voice as his other lover offers North a few words of encouragement, before the brunette’s hand connects sharply with his ass, causing Wash to yelp around North’s shaft. The sound is quickly replaced by a moan when one of his lover’s thick, callused fingers, wet with lube that he briefly wonders about the origin of, prods his entrance carefully. He presses back against the probing digit, eagerly seeking out more contact and urging York on without words. His lover takes the hint, pressing in slowly and stretching him carefully. The moan he releases causes North to snap his hips forward again, tugging sharply on his tie, forcing himself further into Wash’s mouth. He swallows hard, fighting against the rare flare up of his gag reflex when the tip of his lover’s large prick presses against the back of his throat. The addition of another finger in his ass does little to help the situation, driving another whine of pleasure from him and opening his throat further to the intrusion. Tears prick at his eyes, soaking into the blindfold as he pulls against the tight hold on his tie. Almost as if reading his mind, or maybe just picking up on his discomfort, North eases up, pulling his head away using his grasp on the silk. Wash uses the opportunity to draw in a deep breath before York’s fingers find the bundle of nerves that makes him see stars, robbing his lungs of oxygen again with a hard stroke. His gasp of pleasure, despite being slightly muffled by North, makes his brunette lover chuckle. “Mhm, that’s right Wash. I can still get you to make pretty sounds, even with your mouth full.”

The taunting, coupled with another prod to his prostate, has him squirming on York’s fingers in frustration. North’s other hand tangles in his hair comfortingly, pulling gently, before coaxing him back down. He goes more than willingly, attempting to focus his attention on making his taller lover feel good and attempting to ignore the building frustration and pleasure that comes with the teasing his other lover is putting him through. York seems to take exception to it, twisting his fingers in a deliciously vicious way that makes his legs tremble and draws a long moan from him. In response to the vibrations, North’s hips buck forward again and Wash swallows him down carefully. The blonde man lets out a low and hungry groan. “Oh god, do that again York. Or better yet, start fucking him. Because he’s probably ready and his moans feel fucking fantastic. If you want to finish anywhere close to the same time as either of us do, you need to start now.”

Wash hums in agreement, smiling around North when his hips jerk in reaction. He receives a tug on the tie in retaliation cutting off his oxygen for a second at the same time the fingers are pulled out of his ass, leaving him empty. The pressure around his neck eases up when the head of his other lover’s cock presses into him. York wastes no time, bottoming out in one deep, smooth thrust and causing him to inhale sharply. Obviously he isn’t the only one that the teasing got riled up, because instead of letting him adjust, his lover sets a brutal pace, fucking him with hard, fast thrusts. North, the ever thoughtful lover, backs off slightly to let Wash catch his breath. Once he’s comfortable again, he slides down the shaft in his mouth, running his tongue over the underside and gaining a moan for his efforts. York’s thrusts drive him forward, causing North to slide deeper into his mouth until both his lovers match their paces, fucking him from both ends.

Tilting his hips, Wash tries to change the angle so that his prostate gets stimulated. Taking the hint, York wraps his arm around his waist, lifting his ass until he moans audibly around North, eyelids fluttering beneath the blindfold. His lover’s other hand slides off his hip, reaching around to jerk him off as the hand in his hair tightens, pulling sharply. North moans out a soft, low warning. “Oh fuck Wash. I’m -ah- close. So good.”

He hums in encouragement, swallowing dutifully when North explodes in his mouth, taking down his come greedily. The grip on his hair releases as his spent lover slumps away from him, slipping out of his mouth and allowing his moans and whimpers to escape into the room. York groans at his noises, hand moving over him more firmly before his hips start slamming into him at an increased pace. They finish together, Wash spurting over his lover’s hand at the feeling of the other man filling him with his seed. He suddenly finds himself infinitely grateful for the arm around his waist, as he’s no longer sure his legs will support him. He voices as much. “Holy fuck. York, don’t let me go just yet. I think my legs are jelly.”

North snorts and then Wash is suddenly being hoisted upright and pulled against his hard, still clothed chest as York releases him, pulling out carefully. The sound of running water and the paper towel dispenser register in the back of his exhausted mind, and then something wet and warm presses against his rear. He sighs softly as his short lover cleans him up before untying his hands. Reaching up, he tugs off the blindfold, blinking at the brightness of the lights. As soon as his eyes adjust, he pushes himself onto his toes to capture North’s lips in a soft kiss. “Mm, love you. Especially when you don’t treat me like glass.”

“Point taken.” North mumbles against his lips. He pulls away after a moment, dropping his head to his taller lovers chest, with a quiet, happy sigh. His boxers and pants being tugged up makes him start, but before he can react, York has finished doing them up and he’s encased in both his lovers’ arms. 

The brunette drops a kiss to his cheek, leaving his lips against his skin in an action similar to North’s, words muffled by the contact. “Maybe it’s the romantic wedding atmosphere, but I feel kind of sappy right now. The two of your are so amazing. Sometimes I have to stop and marvel the fact that I managed to bag you both.”

“Mm, I know what you mean.” Wash hums in agreement. “But as much as I’m enjoying this moment, I believe we’ve occupied the bathroom for entirely too long. Eventually someone is going to need it, or us.”

“Tucker agreed to keep an eye on Theta for us.” North supplies in response to his unspoken worry. “So we have a few minutes. But you’re right. We should probably straighten ourselves out a little bit.”

York pulls away, offering North his tie back with a grin. “Well, at least we found out a few additional uses for neck ties.”

“Like you didn't already have this planned out the moment you learned we had to wear ties.” Wash accuses, already attempting to smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt. After a moment he gives up with a sigh, brushing the dirt off his pants instead. “But hey, I’m not complaining. Now let’s go dance before we burst into flames for having sex during a wedding.”

“Could have been worse, Wash.” The smirk in North’s voice suggests that York isn’t the only one who planned on this. “At least neither my sister nor Connie wanted to get married in a church.”

“Well there is that.” He agrees. “What’s that saying? ‘Thank God for small favours?’”

“While we’re at it, let’s thank him for David Washington in a suit and tie.” York’s cheeky reply brings another huge grin to his face. Damn it all to hell, he can see himself living with these assholes for the rest of his life. They might as well take him to church and marry him right now.


End file.
